One Took Over the Land, Sweet Jesus
by Von Taylor
Summary: In the time of WWII, when families are torn apart, nations grip each other by the throat stands two siblings, just children in the eyes of the world, fighting vigilantly to keep their diginity as everyone around them crumbles to Hitler's feet.
1. To leave an old biddy

"Red…?" Anna called out, affectionately using her brother's nickname. "Red...? Red?" Anna stomped her foot lightly upon the hardwood floor, a tender scowl forming on her pink lips. She wandered through the house before heading downstairs to the basement; her socked feet made light noises on the cement steps. Dim light and cool, musty air greeted her as she pried the door carefully from its frame. A small smile tugged at the curves of her lips as she watched her brother, hunched over one of his guns. Like a cat she made her way over to him, crouched by his knees and looked up. "I found you," she said softly. He returned her smile but didn't look up. "So I see." It was silent between them for a while. The hollow _tink, tink, tink_ of metal upon metal was the only conversation held amid the pair. Finally she poked him lightly on the knee to draw his attention to her for a least a few seconds.

It was all she could muster from him. His dark brown eyes bore into hers, not the way an older brother's should, but that of a hardened man, a man _ready_ for war. And bygone was he ready.

"Must you go? You're going to leave an old biddy to her lonesome?" Her voice was strong, vigilant, and it carried in the spacious room. All the hurt, the weariness… her love, was buried deep within.

In truth she was relatively young, although years of living in the shadow had made her homely. _Of his shadow._ He had made sure that no one passed under his judgment; he had made sure she was kept as pure and innocent as the world would allow. Yet, she had developed a strong mind, formed her own basis and was quite the intellect. And something he would never figure out, she knew all his close countenances by name.

Red himself never knew why he cared. She wasn't really his. Not biologically, not because of marriage. She _just_ was. Anna had found _him_, took _him_ in. And all for what? He was cold shouldered, didn't give a damn about the world kind of guy. He wasn't much into females, never really cared about the males for that matter. Red was all in for himself. He had no one to live for, look out after, and pay head to but his own damn self.

Until he had met her. He still wasn't soft hearted, he still didn't give a damn, and certainly not much changed since he took her in, but now it seemed that _she_ could pester a smile out of him once in awhile. He would never openly admit that he had grown fond of her, but she was damn smart and he'd be willing to bet Hell that she knew it too.

"Yes, I must go. And no, you're not an old biddy. You'll do fine Anna." His eyes had left hers; now fixedly, almost hypnotizingly back on his rifle. His voice held that air of soft amusement, light irritation. It brought a smile to her features and an inner sort of peace to him.

Her hand swatted his thigh playfully and she looked up at him in what was supposed to be a glare. He laughed.

"Anna, don't give me that." He strained his sentence in what should have been exasperation. It only earned him another twat upon his thigh and a laugh. She bounded up into his lap almost upsetting his rifle components. Red startled for a moment, scrutinizing his work bench before poking her ruefully in the sides. She squeaked protest.

_ Chocolate._ It had been on her mind all day, making her deprived belly rumble and tumble with longing. Anna poked her noisy food consuming machine, "Quit talking mister. No one wants to hear it." It answered her with a mournful sigh and she poked it again.

"Anna, get the damn chocolate would ya? I'm tired of listening to your friend complain."

She stuck her tongue out at him and left her studies in search of some soul food. Returning not too much longer with an armful of chocolate that would make even the German army waiver, Anna sat down to her desk once more.

"Good sweet mother of Lord Anna where did all that come from?"

She threw a piece of rich dark chocolate at him, hitting him squarely in the forehead. Anna roared with laughter as he contemplated her with a look of impatience.

"Oh for goodness' sakes Red just eat the bloody damn thing, would'ya?" She threw another at him which, to her disappointment, he caught.

"I don't see how you can eat so much of this and still be rail thin." He looked down upon the two pieces of soon to be melting chocolate paradise with a mixture of wonderment and appall. "You want me to be fat don't you?" He threw her a look of utter revolt, if only he had been meaning it.

Anna laughed again, a laugh that he would bring as last peace to his grave. "With the way you consume beer, Red you already have the belly going for you." Her little pink mouth drew in an "o" shape as she faked innocence.

This time he really did glare at her. She wasn't supposed to have known that habit. God forbid was his last thought the first time he hid a drink from her, God forbid if she ever found out. She'd go frenzy on his ass. In turn, here, now sitting in the fire abiding warmth of the den she laughed at his habit. Not a mocking laugh, but rather sensing the irony, the humor in it.

Nonetheless, at last he did eat it, ate both of them slowly, contemplating, it seemed like, each bite.


	2. No morning like a Berlin Morning

I bounded, with such grace, out of my bed bare feet kissing the frosted stone floor. My toes did a minute jig over to my dresser made of mahogany to grab a pair of my mother's woolen slippers she had left me a long time ago before she left.

Placing them upon my feet I bounded back to my bed, leaping gazelle style and landing knee deep in comforters. It was _so_ foggy out I had to press my nose and palms to the window just to see two inches past my nose.

Gently I set the heavy wooden block upon my bed that I kept in the window frame to prevent people from gaining access inside my house. Call me paranoid. I'm up on the third story. With a little less enthusiasm I tugged upon the three inch thick so called window and tore open the peeling green shutters.

_So much for being sleepy._

The sub zero Berlin temperatures gnawed at my skin as I continued to gaze out upon the grassland that was my home. Big black tumblers loomed out at me in the far distance. I smiled as I rolled back into my blanket then back onto the unforgiving floor once more.

So swaddled up in my down blanket I couldn't pick at my fingers. I found it very annoying as my fingers twitched, longing for something to tear into. I bit my lip instead. So, that by the time I rolled down the stairs and onto the base landing that separated the first flight of stairs from the second, my lip was totally shredded and bleeding.

_Just ever so slightly._

I blame the Americans for imposing their values upon us Germans. I blame Hitler even more.

_For taking my brother away from me._

I made it down the second flight of stairs with a dull thud. I had to laugh as I clumsily got to my feet once more. I had rolled to a complete stop at the base of Grandmother's ancient rocking chair causing it to rock back and forth just so.

It would drive me crazy if I watched it any longer.

I was already dizzy from my harrowing journey down the stairs.

I took my time getting to the end of the hall. I was not pleasure seeking when I went to go throw open the heavy oak laden door, pounce on the bed of the living dead and throw open his window.

And still he slept. Bloody hell. How one manages that beats me.

I covered his slumbering form back up with the mountain of blankets I had piled there last night just before I, myself went to sleep.

Not a stir. I chuckled to myself. He sure could sleep through anything I'll tell you.

With a kiss to his silken auburn head I made my way back up the stairs, finding it difficult to maneuver those tight corners.

I felt ridiculous. Like a penguin. Tight corners indeed.

With a resounding pounce I slid across the floor, arms out stretched like our Nazis, I managed to skid my fingers along the bottom of our gas stove.

So much for a smooth halt.

_Tink, tink, tink. _I'll be darned. I can't find the tea kettle. I bet you anything, the cat ate it. He has a stomach made of steel. Which kind of makes sense as to why he ate our kettle? I grabbed a small pan and headed outside to the little pond we held captive in our back yard.

_Crunch, crunch, crunch. _The pond was so clear, so smooth. Like glass. If I could, I would preserve it forever.

_Chink, chink, chink._ When I was satisfied with the amount of water in my completely glazed pan, I hustled my stiff form back into the house.

The sound of steaming rising from a pot was a soft whistling sound that almost put me back to sleep.

Until I slid halfway down the corner cupboard, ending up jamming my back into places I never knew it could fit.

This time I stumbled and bumped my way down two flights of stairs, nearly spilled myself into his room and was all that I could do from crumpling into an unmistakable Anna heap upon his bed.

Bloody rum. He was already awake and sitting up, idly staring out the window.

And he laughed. So I poked him.

"Water's ready. Eggs, toast and raspberry jam with a side of sausage alright with you?" I had to tug on his sleeve a couple of times before I could completely tear his vision away from the foggy image.

My response from him was this face deforming yawn that allowed me to poke my index finger into his mouth. I was rewarded with a disheveled glare.


End file.
